(FIC) Sideways (Superman, PG)
Nghhh, omgggg I could not be more behind on everything, including flesh-life. I wrote this story for the Day of the Dead (that's November 2!) and I am only getting around to posting it now...
Life is okay, just kind of super crazy. I have finals this week! the first trimester of the master is over! I started a new construction site and this time I'm completely on my own! It's scary and exciting but so far so good. My old construction site refuses to BE DONE. But.. I have until the end of this month to finish it for real I swearrr it this time. December will be beautiful as I won't have Italian classes or marketing classes and hopefully I'll be done with both constructions. I also won't have sewing classes but that's a big boooo as I plan to sew a lot :D
That's it. That's my life. I went to Chicago last week, and it was freaking awesome. I'm broke! haha. EXCEPT FOR MY SPIRIT. And that's what matters, yay!
So.. uh. Mopey fic! Set to Let's go Sailing's Sideways. Celebrating(?) almost one year of mourning.
Title: Sideways
Rating: PG
Characters: Commander El a.k.a. Superman
Word Count: 1200
Summary: A year in New Krypton.
Warning: This is set in New Krypton, sort of in canon (minus Lois. You know, that alternate Earth, where everything is the same except Clark isn't married.) ANYWAY. Bruce is dead and continues to be dead.
He wakes up.
The ceiling is plain and white, shadows crisscrossing it from the lights of the city against the blinds.
It's late.
It's too late.
He rolls over, pulling the sheets around him, shivering in the cold January night. It's been a harsh winter.
He falls back asleep.
---
He turns one last time, looking at Earth recede in the distance. A blue gem, suspended in space, forever circling the sun. Full of hope and possibilities.
Full of unfulfilled promises and wasted potential.
Full of joy and love, of sadness and pain.
He's made his choice. It's too late to go back now.
He won't let Zod win.
He closes his eyes and says goodbye to Earth, wishing for the blessings of his home planet on the way to New Krypton.
---
He sweeps the feet from under the other man, and before he can recover, he has him pinned down, subdued. He called it maneuver 54, or Cobra variation 4. Clark used to call it 'cheating variation one hundred and ten', and it would always make Bruce smile. It had been a slow, reluctant smile, as he lowered his head to hide the amusement from Clark.
He used to try to hide almost everything from Clark, like his reactions were somehow... wrong. Or unwanted.
He had always meant to ask him why, but he never did.
He lets his training partner go, and his fellow Kryptonian gives him a sullen look that is half admiration. There's no one as experienced as Kal in the Military Guild.
He's been through a lot, tried to learn everything he could from each victory, each defeat.
There's still much left to learn.
---
He dreams of fields of gold, ripe wheat that moves with the wind, whispering, bending in unison, rising back again, the flexible stems dancing to the forces around them.
They whisper words he can almost grasp, a lullaby from Gaia, reaching out to soothe him. The moon is shining bright, too big in the sky to be real, and the fields of gold bend before her, a reverence to the lady of the night.
Kal wakes up and he's crying.
He doesn't know why he's crying, but he can't seem to stop.
---
He clasps Hal's hand just before they go.
He misses Earth, misses his friends, misses letting his guard down and letting himself be, if just for a moment. If just for the illusion of a moment.
He watches as the Lanterns leave New Krypton, and he's never felt this homesick before.
His troops need him, so he returns to them.
---
He sits in his cell.
He sits in his cell for a long time.
Tyr comes, Tyr leaves.
His cell is open, but he was never bound by three walls and a force field. There is no freedom but the freedom of his mind, the freedom of his soul, to be and believe and to love and hope. He's bound by his word, his honor.
He's bound by his heart. He can only be free within himself, here more than anywhere else.
He believes in his people, in the legacy of their shared blood, in the potential for good in every one of them. He will protect them, even from themselves.
Nothing has changed, and yet everything has changed. Earth was home, and New Krypton is...
He shakes his head. He can't blame his people, or their new planet. It is home, too, in a way. He belongs, even when he doesn't.
So much like Earth, he thinks.
Except it's lonelier here. So much for friends, he thinks bitterly. Tyr Van never understood a word he said.
You can't let anyone make your choices for you, not even fate. Otherwise you'll never know what you're capable of, and freedom will be just a nice word, a brilliant illusion.
He's done his part, and there are no prisons that can hold him, no place where he can't do what he knows is right.
He's free, only ever bound by his own heart.
---
He returns to Earth, knowing with a heavy heart that he can't stay for long. Familiar faces greet him, and it's like Earth itself embraces him with her smells, her heat, her colors and sounds. The air is light and flying is smoother, the friction like a caress. He hadn't noticed it's different in New Krypton, less sweet, less natural.
No, not natural. Unnatural. The touch of an eldritch lover.
He remembers the whispers of dreamscapes, and for a moment he's sure he knows what they were saying.
But duty calls and the knowledge escapes him like droplets of mercury, shifting silver, ever changing.
The sky is clouded and his heart aches.
The storm is coming.
It wouldn't be easier in Earth than in New Krypton, he realizes.
He would be missing all the same.
---
Winter begins early in New Krypton, but he barely notices in between diplomatic missions and barely averted catastrophes
There are winter blooms in the parks that he's only ever seen before in holograms in the Fortress. Their smell is subtle and reminds him faintly of mint, cool and soothing, inviting him to embrace the turn of the season. He doesn't notice it at first, but one morning it becomes all he can think about. It permeates the city, an undertone to all the other smells, ever present.
He sits in the middle of his room. The floor is cold and it would be more comfortable to float, but he stays grounded.
He meditates for hours, the winter blooms a background for his thoughts.
---
It snows for the first time in New Krypton.
The Art Guild is delighted and a festival is planned. There is no Christmas in New Krypton, but Kal already has commissioned gifts for Kara and aunt Alura.
It's been almost a year.
He doesn't know if he can go back to Earth yet. He never really thought he would stay here.
There's children flying around the street, not many, but a few, playing with the snow, shrilling with delight.
It's been almost a year.
---
January 17th comes and goes without fanfare.
There are routine maneuvers and exercises with the troops. A quick meeting with Ursa, a longer one with aunt Alura.
He sees Tyr Van during lunch and he nods at him, acknowledging him through the distance. Tyr smiles back, nervously.
He sits through half a day of diplomatic talks, trying to stay calm and collected even as arguments heat up. Today is not a good day to be cool and calm, but he manages.
He stares at the new moon of New Krypton for a long time that night.
He misses him.
Kara joins him at the balcony of the spire of the House of El. She takes his arm, her white robes whispering as she moves, her black gloved hands holding tightly to him.
"It feels like a dream," she says, softly. "Doesn't it?"
The sky is studded with more stars than could ever be seen from a city back on Earth, bright and cold. The new moon glows faintly, like she remembers too. It makes him feel less alone.
Kal nods, slowly, as the wind picks up. "Yes," he says, his eyes set on the moon. "A very long one."
Life is okay, just kind of super crazy. I have finals this week! the first trimester of the master is over! I started a new construction site and this time I'm completely on my own! It's scary and exciting but so far so good. My old construction site refuses to BE DONE. But.. I have until the end of this month to finish it for real I swearrr it this time. December will be beautiful as I won't have Italian classes or marketing classes and hopefully I'll be done with both constructions. I also won't have sewing classes but that's a big boooo as I plan to sew a lot :D
That's it. That's my life. I went to Chicago last week, and it was freaking awesome. I'm broke! haha. EXCEPT FOR MY SPIRIT. And that's what matters, yay!
So.. uh. Mopey fic! Set to Let's go Sailing's Sideways. Celebrating(?) almost one year of mourning.
Title: Sideways
Rating: PG
Characters: Commander El a.k.a. Superman
Word Count: 1200
Summary: A year in New Krypton.
Warning: This is set in New Krypton, sort of in canon (minus Lois. You know, that alternate Earth, where everything is the same except Clark isn't married.) ANYWAY. Bruce is dead and continues to be dead.
He wakes up.
The ceiling is plain and white, shadows crisscrossing it from the lights of the city against the blinds.
It's late.
It's too late.
He rolls over, pulling the sheets around him, shivering in the cold January night. It's been a harsh winter.
He falls back asleep.
---
He turns one last time, looking at Earth recede in the distance. A blue gem, suspended in space, forever circling the sun. Full of hope and possibilities.
Full of unfulfilled promises and wasted potential.
Full of joy and love, of sadness and pain.
He's made his choice. It's too late to go back now.
He won't let Zod win.
He closes his eyes and says goodbye to Earth, wishing for the blessings of his home planet on the way to New Krypton.
---
He sweeps the feet from under the other man, and before he can recover, he has him pinned down, subdued. He called it maneuver 54, or Cobra variation 4. Clark used to call it 'cheating variation one hundred and ten', and it would always make Bruce smile. It had been a slow, reluctant smile, as he lowered his head to hide the amusement from Clark.
He used to try to hide almost everything from Clark, like his reactions were somehow... wrong. Or unwanted.
He had always meant to ask him why, but he never did.
He lets his training partner go, and his fellow Kryptonian gives him a sullen look that is half admiration. There's no one as experienced as Kal in the Military Guild.
He's been through a lot, tried to learn everything he could from each victory, each defeat.
There's still much left to learn.
---
He dreams of fields of gold, ripe wheat that moves with the wind, whispering, bending in unison, rising back again, the flexible stems dancing to the forces around them.
They whisper words he can almost grasp, a lullaby from Gaia, reaching out to soothe him. The moon is shining bright, too big in the sky to be real, and the fields of gold bend before her, a reverence to the lady of the night.
Kal wakes up and he's crying.
He doesn't know why he's crying, but he can't seem to stop.
---
He clasps Hal's hand just before they go.
He misses Earth, misses his friends, misses letting his guard down and letting himself be, if just for a moment. If just for the illusion of a moment.
He watches as the Lanterns leave New Krypton, and he's never felt this homesick before.
His troops need him, so he returns to them.
---
He sits in his cell.
He sits in his cell for a long time.
Tyr comes, Tyr leaves.
His cell is open, but he was never bound by three walls and a force field. There is no freedom but the freedom of his mind, the freedom of his soul, to be and believe and to love and hope. He's bound by his word, his honor.
He's bound by his heart. He can only be free within himself, here more than anywhere else.
He believes in his people, in the legacy of their shared blood, in the potential for good in every one of them. He will protect them, even from themselves.
Nothing has changed, and yet everything has changed. Earth was home, and New Krypton is...
He shakes his head. He can't blame his people, or their new planet. It is home, too, in a way. He belongs, even when he doesn't.
So much like Earth, he thinks.
Except it's lonelier here. So much for friends, he thinks bitterly. Tyr Van never understood a word he said.
You can't let anyone make your choices for you, not even fate. Otherwise you'll never know what you're capable of, and freedom will be just a nice word, a brilliant illusion.
He's done his part, and there are no prisons that can hold him, no place where he can't do what he knows is right.
He's free, only ever bound by his own heart.
---
He returns to Earth, knowing with a heavy heart that he can't stay for long. Familiar faces greet him, and it's like Earth itself embraces him with her smells, her heat, her colors and sounds. The air is light and flying is smoother, the friction like a caress. He hadn't noticed it's different in New Krypton, less sweet, less natural.
No, not natural. Unnatural. The touch of an eldritch lover.
He remembers the whispers of dreamscapes, and for a moment he's sure he knows what they were saying.
But duty calls and the knowledge escapes him like droplets of mercury, shifting silver, ever changing.
The sky is clouded and his heart aches.
The storm is coming.
It wouldn't be easier in Earth than in New Krypton, he realizes.
He would be missing all the same.
---
Winter begins early in New Krypton, but he barely notices in between diplomatic missions and barely averted catastrophes
There are winter blooms in the parks that he's only ever seen before in holograms in the Fortress. Their smell is subtle and reminds him faintly of mint, cool and soothing, inviting him to embrace the turn of the season. He doesn't notice it at first, but one morning it becomes all he can think about. It permeates the city, an undertone to all the other smells, ever present.
He sits in the middle of his room. The floor is cold and it would be more comfortable to float, but he stays grounded.
He meditates for hours, the winter blooms a background for his thoughts.
---
It snows for the first time in New Krypton.
The Art Guild is delighted and a festival is planned. There is no Christmas in New Krypton, but Kal already has commissioned gifts for Kara and aunt Alura.
It's been almost a year.
He doesn't know if he can go back to Earth yet. He never really thought he would stay here.
There's children flying around the street, not many, but a few, playing with the snow, shrilling with delight.
It's been almost a year.
---
January 17th comes and goes without fanfare.
There are routine maneuvers and exercises with the troops. A quick meeting with Ursa, a longer one with aunt Alura.
He sees Tyr Van during lunch and he nods at him, acknowledging him through the distance. Tyr smiles back, nervously.
He sits through half a day of diplomatic talks, trying to stay calm and collected even as arguments heat up. Today is not a good day to be cool and calm, but he manages.
He stares at the new moon of New Krypton for a long time that night.
He misses him.
Kara joins him at the balcony of the spire of the House of El. She takes his arm, her white robes whispering as she moves, her black gloved hands holding tightly to him.
"It feels like a dream," she says, softly. "Doesn't it?"
The sky is studded with more stars than could ever be seen from a city back on Earth, bright and cold. The new moon glows faintly, like she remembers too. It makes him feel less alone.
Kal nods, slowly, as the wind picks up. "Yes," he says, his eyes set on the moon. "A very long one."